Home Fires
by chessqueen
Summary: COMPLETED. Futurefic. Clark returns home after twenty-two years. CONTENT WARNING: There are two character deaths though not described in any detail.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: This story also contains elements of the New Cinema Paradiso written and directed by Giuseppe Tornatore and distributed by Miramax Films

Spoilers: One reference to Nicodemus

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Clark Kent stood on the balcony of his forty-second floor apartment and enjoyed the cool night breeze as he looked out at the Metropolis skyline. He knew he should have been working on his story for the Daily Planet but something about the night compelled him to stand on his balcony and take in the sights and sounds of the city - the honking car horns, the loud music, the thousands of people milling around - laughing, talking, living. Below him he heard a dog bark, in the distance, an ambulance.

In an odd way, all this activity relaxed him, lulled him into a state of acceptance that things were as they should be. Then the phone rang.

He picked up the cordless from the table and pressed the "talk" button. As he put the phone to his ear, he said "Hello?"

"Clark."

"Mom."

"Clark," Martha began then started to cry.

"Mom, what is it?"

"It's your father. . . . " It was something in the way she said it - the catch in her throat, the hollowness of her voice. Without her having to say it, he knew.

"He's . . . ."

"Dead," Martha said. Clark could feel as well as hear her desperation. "He collapsed while working in the south field. The doctors say it was a heart attack."

"Oh God," Clark said suddenly feeling weak and nauseous. 

"Honey, I know you never planned on returning to Smallville but would you just this once . . . ," Martha's voice trailed off.

"Of course mom," Clark said squaring his shoulders. "I'll be there tomorrow."

"Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise. I'll see you tomorrow."

After saying goodbye to Martha, Clark walked slowly back into the apartment and sat down on the brown leather couch in the living room. Then he put his head in his hands and began to cry.

***

Though he hadn't set foot in Smallville for twenty-two years, Clark still knew his way around. As he drove up to the front of the house, he saw Martha standing on the porch, her eyes wet and bloodshot, her nose red and running.

"Clark," Martha called out once she realized it was him.

"I'm here," he said as he walked up to her and put his arms around her. He continued holding her close as they walked into the house.

"Do you need me to do anything?"

"No, no. Paul and Gloria Robinson helped me make the arrangements."

As Martha sat down at the kitchen table, Clark went to the stove and put on the teakettle. The house basically looked the same as it did the last time he'd been home all those years ago. It was like time had stood still in Smallville. But obviously it hadn't, that's why he'd left.

Looking out the kitchen window, he could see Lana's house.

Lana.

Not a day went by that he didn't think of her, of the life they might have had together.

As the teakettle whistled, Clark shook his head. Nothing could be gained from living in the past. He sighed as he opened the cupboard and took out two mugs then placed them on the counter. Next he reached into the tea caddy and pulled out two peppermint flavored tea bags and placed one of each in the two mugs. Finally he poured hot water over them and took them over to the table and sat down across from Martha.

"So how are things at work?" Martha asked then blew on her steaming tea.

"Fine."

"Only fine," Martha said with a small smile. She knew that at forty years old, Clark was one of the most widely respected and read investigative reporters in the country. In the newspaper industry, everyone knew that it was only a matter of time before he won a Pulitzer.

"Ok. Ok. More than fine. I just turned in a story on organized crime in Metropolis."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Don't worry mom. I'm Superman. Bullets have been known to actually bounce off my chest," he said with a smile.

"I'm your mother. I can't help worrying," Martha said as she patted his hands.

"Well don't. I should be worrying about you. I should have been here to take care of you and dad," he said softly.

"Clark you definitely weren't born to be a farmer," Martha said with a laugh.

"I know. But all those times I insisted you and dad visit me in Metropolis; I should have come here to visit you instead."

"You had your reasons and your father and I understood that. Smallville holds too many bad memories for you."

"It does but. . . ."

"But what?" Martha asked gently.

"I should have been stronger. I have superhuman strength. I can fly for God's sake. I should have been stronger!"

"Chloe was one of your best friends. It's understandable that you would take her death hard. Besides, your father and I always knew you blamed yourself for her death. Clark, it wasn't your fault."

"With my powers, I could have saved her."


	2. Chapter 2

Clark sat on the floor of the original Fortress of Solitude a.k.a. the hayloft surrounded by boxes filled with his high school mementos: journals, yearbooks, pictures, issues of the Torch, flyers for the Talon. Looking at a picture of the farm in winter, Clark was suddenly reminded of a Latin proverb that said 'a man is not where he lives, but where he loves.' Although he knew he'd been born on a planet in a galaxy far, far away, he couldn't imagine growing up anywhere but Smallville. There was nothing like the vast, white, barrenness of a Kansas winter or the warm glow of a harvest moon. Flipping through some pictures, Clark came across one of him and Pete standing next to one of the Kent's cows. That picture was taken on the day Pete had had the bright idea of taking photos of the ancient practice of cow tipping. But fear of what Jonathan would do to them if he found out quickly nipped that little idea in the bud. Growing up on a working farm, there had always been this smell in the air, it had probably been just a mixture of cattle, crop, grass and flower smells, but the only word he could think of to describe it was 'life.' It was the only word that made any sense considering the farm had created, sustained, and eventually took the lives of both his father and grandfather. His father, Clark thought as a lone tear fell down his face, God how he had loved that man. 

After putting the pictures back into the box, Clark began leafing through one of his yearbooks. Like any high school yearbook, there were pictures of football games, students in the cafeteria and hallways. Then he came across a candid shot of Chloe in the Torch office. Chloe. When it came to her two passions in life, her friends and her journalism, she had been like a pit bull that wouldn't let go. They had both planned to attend Metropolis University and major in journalism but instead she had been killed a month before college by a drunk driver who had forced her off the road. He was supposed to have gone with her that day to investigate two mysterious deaths at an abandoned house on Miller Road but had cancelled at the last minute to help Lana at the Talon. Thinking of Chloe now, Clark let the tears flow freely as a great sadness overcame him. Then he was suddenly gripped by a thought that had haunted him every day for the past twenty-two years: if only I had kept my promise, Chloe would be alive today.

***

The day of Jonathan's funeral was bright, chilly and clear. As Martha and Clark stood by the casket talking to Reverend Deemer, it seemed as if the whole town had come out to pay their respects. Next to Clark stood Pete who was now a successful lawyer married with a ten-year-old son and a six-year- old daughter. When Reverend Deemer began the eulogy, Martha's shoulders began to visibly shake. Immediately Clark put his arm around her and held her close. As hard as it was for him to deal with his father's death, he knew that it was a hundred times worse for his mother. Martha had stood by Jonathan during the good times and bad, during drought, poor harvests, ill health, and the constant threat of losing the farm, her home. She had also stood by him when their only son had abandoned them.

After Jonathan's casket was lowered into the ground, Clark and Martha began walking to his rental car when he stopped to scan the faces of those at the cemetery.

"She's probably not even in town. If she were, *he* probably wouldn't let her come,"Pete said bitterly.

"Yeah, I know," Clark said softly.

After the service, many of the neighbors came by the house to pay their condolences, offer their love and support, and to drop off food: the Robinsons brought homemade bread, the Rosses, fried chicken, and the Stevensons, mashed potatoes. For hours, people came by to eat a light supper and reminisce about Jonathan - what an honest man he was, a dedicated and loving husband and father, a good farmer and a trusted friend.

The gathering went on for hours. But after saying goodbye to the last guest, Clark kissed Martha goodnight and climbed into his car and headed for Rayville. Rayville was another small Kansas town twenty miles from Smallville. Clark needed a drink but more importantly he needed to get away - from the farm, the town, people, they were all painful reminders of why he'd finally come home.

After sitting in McGuire's Bar and Grill for over an hour nursing beer after beer, Clark suddenly turned at the voice of a young woman asking for an apple martini. He caught his breath and froze. His heart stopped because he couldn't believe his eyes. It was as if time had stood still. She looked the same as she did the last time he'd seen her: long brown hair, mesmerizing green eyes, perfect skin, a bright smile. 

"La . . . ," he began than stopped.

"Pardon?" the girl asked staring at him.

"Nothing. I'm sorry," Clark said regaining his composure. "I thought you were someone else."

"No problem," she said as she took her drink from the bartender and went back to her friends.

Of course it's not her, he thought, time does not stand still even in small Kansas towns in the middle of nowhere. But the resemblance was uncanny. This girl looked just like her at that age. Could it be? Could this be her daughter? Martha had told him that Lana had a daughter. 

Clark continued sitting at the bar but instead of beer, he now drank coffee. He sat and waited. When the girl and her friends got up to leave, he followed them out. They were talking and laughing so they didn't notice him. His investigative skills would come in handy tonight, he thought, though he never would have guessed that he'd be more afraid of following an eighteen-year-old girl than the eldest son of Metropolis's most powerful crime boss. After the girl's friends dropped her off at home, Clark parked the car outside her front gate and just sat there until the sun came up.


	3. Chapter 3

As the sun set over Smallville, Clark parked his car in front of Lana's home and waited. After fifteen minutes, he saw her daughter and husband leave dressed in evening attire probably off to the Metropolis Opera. As they drove away, Clark reached for his cell phone but couldn't bring himself to dial the number to the house. Was it the same after all these years?

As he sat there, Clark saw a light go on in one of the upstairs rooms. Obviously someone was home. He slowly, tentatively, reached for his phone again and dialed the numbers. After three rings, someone picked up the phone. "Hello," a woman's voice said at the other end of the line. "Hello?"

Clark hung up. He caught his breath. It was her.

He drew up his shoulders and dialed again.

"Hello?" Lana asked on the other end of the line. "Hello? Who is this?"

"May I speak with Lana Lang please?"

"Speaking."

"Lana, I don't know if you remember me. This is Clark, Clark Kent. I used to live next door to you."

"Don't be silly. Of course I remember you Clark."

"I'm glad." A few silent minutes passed.

"Clark? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Lana. I was wondering if we could go have a drink, maybe in Rayville. I'm actually parked outside your front gate."

"I don't think that's a good idea. We haven't seen each other or spoken in so long. What would be the point now?"

He knew she was right. They hadn't seen each other since the day of Chloe's funeral when racked with guilt, he had decided to leave Smallville forever. But he had thought about her every day for all those years and he felt that if he didn't see her tonight, he'd never have another chance again.

"I really need to see you."

"I'm sorry. I can't," she said and hung up the phone.

For ten minutes Clark sat silently in his car then he started the engine and drove away. He drove around for forty minutes and finally found himself in Chandler's Field. The old windmill was still there, well at least a replica of it. His mom had told him a few years ago that a group of Smallville High kids had gotten together and rebuilt it. 

***

He sat on the windmill's ledge for an hour just staring at the Metropolis skyline only turning around at the sound of a car pulling up next to his. The driver turned the car headlights off and opened the passenger side door. "Clark," a female voice called out.

"Lana?"

"Yes, come down," she called up to him from the car.

He slowly, hesitantly made his way down the windmill. After all this time he would see her. When he reached the car, he gingerly climbed in. It was dark and he could only see her in shadow. He reached for the light switch on the car's roof.

"No," Lana said reaching for his arm.

"I want to see you," Clark said softly, gently. Then he flicked on the light.

She looked the same yet older. Her hair had faded in color and was now chin length, her eyes seemed lighter as well, more transparent. But she was still beautiful. She had lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth and Clark hoped they were laugh lines and not those of worry and pain. 

"You're beautiful," Clark said.

"I'm old," Lana said turning off the car light.

"Not so old," Clark said as he touched her cheek.

"Don't."

"Fine," Clark said as he turned around in his seat. "How did you know I'd be here?"

"I know you Clark Kent. You didn't think a few years would stop me from remembering how much we used to hang out here. Remember when I told you, Chloe, and Pete that I'd always wanted to come here because the windmill was the highest point in Smallville and you could see Metropolis from here. After I got out of the hospital, you know after being infected by that Nicodemus flower, you brought me here because you knew how important it was to me."

"Yeah."

"That's my point. You don't forget moments like that."

"Do you ever think about me, about us Lana?"

"We shouldn't be talking like this. How is life in Metropolis?"

"Fine. I'm doing well at the Daily Planet. How is life in New York, London, Paris? Are you and Lex happy?"

"As happy as two people can be after twenty years of marriage."

"Well your daughter is beautiful. I'm sure she has lots of guys chasing after her."

"She does. But Lily's very shrewd. She's a lot like her father."

"Well I can see she was fortunate enough to inherit her mother's good looks."

"Thanks," Lana said shifting in her seat. "I'm sorry about your father Clark. I wanted to come to the funeral and so did Lex but we thought it would be best if we stayed away. Your father was a good man."

"Yes, he was. What are you doing in Smallville? My mother and Pete said you don't visit often."

"I wanted Lily to see where I grew up. She'll be off to Harvard in the fall and I guess I was feeling old and nostalgic. But she hates Smallville; she even finds Metropolis boring compared to New York and Paris."

They sat in silence. Clark thinking about what his life would have been like with Lana as his wife and Lily as his daughter.

"Why did you call me Clark?" Lana asked breaking the silence. "I haven't heard from you in so long."

"You seemed to have done okay."

"Meaning?"

"You're Mrs. Lex Luthor, grand dame of New York, London, Paris, Rome."

"What are you implying Clark? Because if I remember correctly, it was you who left me. Left all of us behind in Smallville after Chloe's death - me, Lex, Pete, your parents. What was I supposed to do, wait for you forever?"

Yes, Clark wanted to shout but he knew such a request would have been unfair.

"I waited for you for a year and a half. You wouldn't talk to me. You wouldn't talk to Lex or Pete. You were my best friend, my boyfriend, my love yet you wouldn't talk to me. Can you imagine how painful that was for me?" Lana said as the tears streamed down her face. Gingerly, she wiped them away.

"I'm so sorry Lana," Clark said as he put his arms around her and drew her close. They sat for twenty minutes like that with him stroking her hair.

Finally pulling away, Lana looked into his eyes. How different yet the same her eyes look from the last time I saw them, Clark thought as he bent down to kiss her. Overcome with emotion, they sat in the car kissing and groping like teenagers, finally making love.

***

"I should be heading home," Lana said after pulling away from one of Clark's many post-coital kisses. After making love, they had quickly gotten dressed and had lain in each other's arms, holding and kissing one another.

"No," Clark said then began kissing her face.

"Stop," Lana said as she gently pushed Clark away. She sat up and held his face in her hands. "I can't allow myself to become emotionally involved with you again."

"Why not? I can fly to New York for visits. You could come to Metropolis. I don't want to lose you again Lana," Clark said as he buried his face in her neck.

"Look at me Clark. You have a wonderful career in Metropolis. Lex gets the Daily Planet delivered to our apartment in New York. I've read all those amazing stories you've written. Your life is in Metropolis, and mine is in New York. Besides, I have a husband and a daughter and I refuse to have one of those mid-life crises," Lana said with a small laugh.

Clark joined in with her laughter. How pathetic, he thought. He had thought he had left the past behind him when he'd walked away from Smallville all those years ago but he hadn't. He still felt guilty over Chloe's death and he was still in love with Lana, yet there was no way to bring Chloe back and Lana had moved on with her life. Everyone had. But knowing this, there was still a part of him that desperately wanted to hold on to this moment with Lana forever. 

"May I call you sometime?" Clark asked reaching for Lana's hand.

"No." There was something in her eyes that made him realize that this was nonnegotiable. "Goodbye Clark," Lana said as she turned the ignition key and the car roared to life.

"Goodbye," Clark said as he opened the car door and climbed out of the car. He stood still as Lana's car backed up, turned around, and drove away down the highway.

He slowly made his way back to his car, then he made his way back to the farm. He needed to pack so that he could leave early for Metropolis tomorrow morning. Perry wanted him to do a story on hospital insurance fraud and tomorrow would be as good a day as any to get started.

  
  



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